Wicce (2nd Edition)

4

THE sky had suddenly turned grey. The grind of the train wheels on the rails sounded irritable and the crowded bus ride more uncomfortable than usual as Charlotte rode home. She took her time treading along the neighborhood sidewalk towards home. Her depression and frustration had boomeranged. She kept thinking back and wondered what had gone wrong. Did she say something wrong? Had she looked stupid? Did she look unpleasant? Desperate? Or was her luck really that bad? May be they had already found someone. May be they were just being polite giving her a chance.

Charlotte walked heavily up the three dismal steps that led to the tired-looking door to the tiny townhouse apartment that was her home. Even the way the key squeaked as she turned it in the lock annoyed her. She stepped in. The house was dark and vacant with a slight smell of mould. It was still early in the day, her mother wouldn't have returned from work yet. Charlotte grumbled; feeling irritated that there was no audience to hear her grievance.

Her stomach let out a protesting groan. Her tiny wristwatch showed it was a bit past two-forty. She dug around in the kitchen, made herself a thin sandwich out of some stale bread and the last pieces of ham in the fridge and poured herself a glass of water from the tap. She brought her food upstairs and ate it on her bed. She felt like a bomb about to explode and could almost hear a ticking sound in the silence. Suddenly the phone rang, making her jump and spilling half of the water from the glass onto her lap. Swearing, she got up and picked up the phone on her nightstand. Who would be calling at this hour?

"What?!"

"Hi! Guess who!" A girl's voice squeaked with delight from the other side of the line at the same time. "Oh, sorry. Should I call back later?"

"Arr..."

"It's me? Caitlin?"

"Oh! Hi, Caitlin."

"You haven't forgotten about me already, have you?" Caitlin's voice tinkled like bells on the other side of the line. "Are you OK? How have you been? You don't sound so great."

"Why haven't you called?" Charlotte did not mean to sound accusing but the question turned out that way. She could feel the anger bubbling inside her. Thank goodness Caitlin did not take it the wrong way.

"I've been busy with school and the move. They have piled tons of homework on us. Sorry I don't mean to take so long to call. Is everything all right?"

Charlotte was so glad she finally had someone to talk to that she suddenly felt overwhelmed with emotions, "I just had the most terrible day today." She was a bit taken aback herself when she heard her own voice breaking.

"Oh, no. What happened? Your mom didn't burn the toasts again and made you eat them, did she? You've got to tell her they are cancerous!"

Charlotte couldn't help but let out a chuckle. Caitlin always tried to cheer her up with silly jokes. For some reason, they always worked. Suddenly two-months of loneliness and bitterness vanished. It's as if they were back in school again.

"No, not that." Charlotte sighed, "I still haven't found a job. I got an interview at the Westminster U today but this creepy professor gave me such a hard time." Charlotte took in a deep breath and said out loud the thought that had been poisoning her the moment she had walked out of Professor Brinkley's office. "I don't think I got it."

"Why? What do you mean he was a creep? Was he hitting on you?"

Charlotte howled with laughter, "He would if I were you!" It's great to talk to Caitlin again, the day started not feel so terrible after all, and "He was just so strange. You know, weird vibe." Charlotte began recounting her interview that morning, feeling the weights slowing lifting off her chest.